


Sticks and Stones

by remi_wolf



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angry Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Angst, Arguments, Crying, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Internalized Fatphobia, Men Crying, Mentioned Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Mentioned Martin Blackwood's Mother, Season/Series 02, Verbal Abuse, Whumptober 2020, Yelling, screaming match
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:41:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26961577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remi_wolf/pseuds/remi_wolf
Summary: "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt." Such a stupid turn of phrase, and one that's ridiculous and awful. Martin can't do anything against words, though, other than stand there and take them and try to reconcile the fact that Tim probably doesn't mean it. Everyone's so stressed after the Jane Prentiss Attack and finding out that Jon stalked him that he was lashing out, and apparently, Martin's close enough this time that he's the target of this lashing. He just has to endure it long enough to disappear, even if he starts crying before he can leave.Whumptober 2020: Day 11. Prompt: Struggling, Crying.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Tim Stoker
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22
Collections: Beguilements and Distractions, Remi's Whumptober Collection for 2020, Whumptober 2020





	Sticks and Stones

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Verbal abuse, yelling.

“You’re so  _ stupid _ , I can’t understand why anyone would want you around!”

Martin stood there, stunned as he looked at Tim, trying to reconcile the man that he knew had been his friend at one point with the angry idiot in front of him. Where had Tim gone?  _ His _ Tim, the Tim that dragged him out to the pub every other night so that they could have something normal, even when everything started getting scarier and after his run-in with Jane Prentiss. 

“What...Tim, I don’t—”

“Just stop it! He practically accused both of us of murder. Why do you keep trying to say that he’s a good person? He’s not, Martin. He’s not at all! He broke and he refuses to talk to any of us, and you’re so  _ stupid _ for ever thinking that you could possibly end up helping him! You need to just shut up and accept that nothing’s normal and it’s all awful and we’re probably going to die a horrible death soon.”

Hot tears welled up as Martin looked at Tim, entirely lost about how they got to this point, how yet another argument about Jon came up, and he knew that he couldn’t hide them. It was ridiculous, all of this was ridiculous, but he couldn’t help the tears that kept trying to flow freely over his cheeks, even if he wasn’t quite sobbing yet. 

“He’s our  _ friend _ , Tim—”

“That didn’t seem to help when he was stalking either of us. The only reason he suspected me more than you was because you’re just pathetic and small and you couldn’t do anything wrong, let alone commit a murder. Christ knows you’d get caught within a week or you’d confess that you did it hours later because you felt so guilty.”

“You don’t know that, Tim! You don’t know why Jon suspected you at all. Maybe someone said something, or maybe it’s because I don’t scream at him or threaten to kill him!” Martin’s voice cracked, and he looked away, trying to ignore the tremble in his shoulders as he hiccupped slightly. Ridiculous. That was supposed to come  _ after _ the sobbing, and not as a lead-up to it, and he took a deep breath. “I just...I like being kind, Tim. That’s not a bad thing.”

“Oh, boo hoo, you like to be kind. What the fuck does that give anyone, Martin? It’s ridiculous to think that kindness gets you anywhere.”

Martin looked away. He hated the way Tim looked when he was this angry, and he knew that it would simply hurt more to take this abuse if he was looking at him. It always was, so he looked at his feet again, trying not to let the litanies of abuse from his mother also repeat in his head, even if they were. Useless and stupid and worthless and everything in her voice in clear, perfect audio, and Martin could feel as the first sob slipped from his lips, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. 

“Oh, great, you’re crying now, too. Just wonderful. Sasha’s going to have my hide.”

“Shut up, Tim!” Martin couldn’t help but snap at him, couldn’t help but get angry at the mention of Sasha and Tim being more concerned about her anger with him, rather than the fact that he didn’t seem to care at all that he hurt Martin enough to make him cry. This was ridiculous, and Tim was ridiculous, and Martin couldn’t help another sob, even if he tried to muffle it with his hand. “I just wanted to help. Is that really so wrong, Tim? What are we here for if not to help people?”

“Apparently cover up the truth about paranormal bullshit! And you’re here just to give us tea and biscuits and pretend that you’re Martin Blackwood with a Master’s of Parapsychology. Spoiler alert, Martin, but that’s not a thing! That doesn’t exist! You can’t even lie on your fucking CV!”

Martin shrank back, trying not to feel too betrayed by that getting thrown in his face, and he glanced back at the doorway. At least Elias wasn’t there, but he didn’t know who else might have heard. “That’s not true! I...I can lie, alright? I just don’t want to. Is that really that bad of a thing? You used to be kind, too, anyways!”

“Sure, kind. Look at where that got me. Clearly not in Jon’s good graces when the bumbling idiot got there. Had to have slept with the boss, I’m sure. Christ knows he’s got a stupid schoolyard crush on you, though why, I have no idea.”

“Tim, I’m..." Martin trailed off, trying to school his expression into something less devastated, even if that hurt strangely less than anything else. Clearly Tim was hysterical right now after finding out that Jon had been stalking his apartment, and while his comments were awful, they were probably all false if he was saying that Jon had a crush on him. That was easy to deal with. “I’m going to forget that this conversation ever happened, alright? I’m going to do that, and you’re not going to bring it up later, and it’s going to be alright. But I think you need to calm down. None of this is any of our faults. We’re all just..." Martin took another shaking breath, trying to keep himself calm rather than break down into more tears all over again, even if he could still feel tears burning his eyes and spilling over his cheeks. “We’re all very stressed, and this is you reacting poorly to that. I’ll...I’ll just work in the Archives, and you can stay here, and it’s going to be fine. We’ll be fine in a little while.”

Martin nodded before running towards the Archives, ignoring whatever comment Tim made in return, even if he could hear the muffled yelling, and he slammed the door shut behind him before sinking down to the ground. He hated this, and he hated the fact that all of them had been so badly ripped apart by the Prentiss attack and then him somehow, stupidly, finding Gertrude’s body. Why had he found it? How had he even found it? He never should have said anything about it, but then again, he doubted that would have helped anyone.

He curled up tighter on the floor, even if it wasn’t nearly as tight as he wanted to. His arms couldn’t quite reach around his knees, and for some stupid reason, that made him sob even harder. 

Stupid, worthless,  _ fat _ , of course he was fat, why wouldn’t he be anything else, how he had somehow forgotten his mother’s words screaming that in his ear every day and every time they went shopping and every time he attempted to get seconds for dinner rather than accepting his meager first portion. 

He hated the Archives. He hated it so desperately, even if the calm and quiet was soothing against his ears. He could still hear Tim’s ranting through the door, but it was a muffled bass line to the tattoo of hate against his skull, and while he wasn’t sobbing as much, he could still feel the tears over his cheeks, even if he relaxed.

**Author's Note:**

> Martin! Crying! I'm very sorry! Or, really, I'm more sorry about the way in which I made Martin cry this time, because he doesn't deserve it like this, and I actually really adore a much softer Tim and Martin vibe, and while Martin and Tim won't be entirely okay after this, please imagine Tim going up to Martin the next day and vaguely attempting to apologize, and Martin will accept because he's that sort of person, and it'll be an awkward elephant in the room for a long time, but maybe Tim gets a little bit softer and more tired and not entirely sharp-edges angry anymore.   
> But yes! I hope you all enjoyed this. I'm sorry about the verbal abuse.


End file.
